A Hellish Heaven
by aurelius-hurriya
Summary: Cara and the Mother Confessor are at the end of their rope after eight days in the desert. After the loss of all their companions, subject to the hot winds of the desert, they are all each other has left. But will it be too late? (first entry in multi-chapter)
1. Chapter 1

The Mord'Sith's red leathers clung uncomfortably to Cara's skin as she struggled to put one foot in front of the other.

The sun was high overhead and, though she would never admit it, Cara was overheated and weary from their eighth day traveling through the Annisen desert in an attempt to reach the Nawlee people at the eastern border of the sands.

She glanced at the Mother Confessor walking just ahead of her. A sheen of sweat glistened on Kahlan's pale neck, and from the movements of her back Cara could tell that her companion drew shallow, uneven breaths.

Cara halted, expelling the air in her mouth tiredly and raising her face to the bright white sun. She paused for a moment, gathering herself before speaking to Kahlan.

"Stop."

The Mother Confessor staggered determinedly forward, her gait as awkward as a newborn colt but without the energy.

"Kahlan," she tried again, the words scratching uncomfortably on her raw throat. She cleared her throat and licked her lips.

"What if Zedd was wrong? What if the enchantments here are still in place?" Cara rasped.

Kahlan's stride quickened, and Cara grumbled and launched herself into a run to catch up to the Mother Confessor.

"Kahlan!" she cried, grasping Kahlan's arm and pulling her around.

The Mother Confessor's face was wind-whipped, her lips dry and cracked. Her dark hair billowed around her face, giving her an aura of otherworldly power and strength, despite her sinking shoulders and dull eyes.

Kahlan's chest heaved and beads of sweat crept down her temples and nose, so that Cara couldn't tell if she had been crying or not. Kahlan stared pointedly at the ground to the left of the Mord'Sith, too tired to run.

The leather of Kahlan's arm bracers was hot and soft under Cara's fingers, and she gentled her grip, letting Kahlan's arm fall and feeling keenly the potent cocktail of heat, fear, and desperation swirling around them.

The Mord'Sith's initial commitment had been to serve and protect The Lord Rahl, but the longer she traveled with his party, the more deeply she had come to feel committed to the Mother Confessor as well.

Eyeing Kahlan, and deciding the Mother Confessor wasn't likely to take off again, Cara swung her pack down and let it drop onto the sand. She withdrew two lightweight blankets, and chanced a look at the Mother Confessor. Kahlan's gaze was still fixed on the ground behind Cara, her chest still shuddering as if threatening to collapse in on itself.

Cara shook out one blanket on the ground, scooping sand over the corners to prevent it from blowing away, and dropped her pack on the eastern edge of the blanket.

She approached Kahlan carefully but confidently, the way a mother approaches an overtired, sickly child who needs to rest but wants to play.

Kahlan's eyes suddenly flicked up to Cara's face, looking desperately into her companion's eyes. Cara gazed back for a moment before lowering her chin slightly and reaching for the shoulder straps of Kahlan's pack.

Cara eased the fingers of one hand beneath the sweat-dampened straps of the Mother Confessor's pack, and hoisted it up and off Kahlan's back with the other hand.

Kahlan shivered, the wind on her sweaty back bringing a surprising coolness and lightness to her system.

Before she knew what was happening, Kahlan was being gently pulled forward and pressed down onto the blanket on the sand.

Cara settled herself next to her companion and lifted the second blanket up over their heads and around their shoulders, like a cloak against the dry heat of the desert.

Kahlan's shoulders were tight and her eyes watered with exhaustion and sadness.

"Lean back," Cara said, touching Kahlan's shoulder and softly pushing her backwards until her back rested against their piled packs next to Cara, already resting there.

Kahlan released her body weight to be fully supported by the packs, and exhaled with relief.

Cara moved closer and drew the material tighter around them, trying to create as much shade as possible.

They sat in silence, the wind swirling around their ankles and rippling the blanket that Cara held fast around them.

"He's not coming back, is he?"

Cara tightened her jaw reflexively, memories of Richard being dragged away by a horde of banelings flashing involuntarily through her mind. Kahlan screaming and clawing at Cara as she held the Mother Confessor back. Richard's initial frenzied fighting, and his calm acceptance as he realized there were too many to fight off. The look she and Richard shared in the last moment before he was overwhelmed, his eyes flicking to Kahlan, back to Cara, and nodding at the Mord'Sith imperceptibly.

Feelings had never been, and never would be, Cara's forte, but they were cropping up inside her now like waves, and she couldn't control them.

Richard was gone, Zedd was dead in all likelihood, her Sisters were likely decimated by the Keeper during their last attempt to reclaim Richard's compass, and soon they would be food for the vultures, too.

They were miles from civilization, from all water sources and shelter, and, to be honest, they didn't have much reason to return to the civilized world anyways.

Cara's head dropped as a sudden wave of misery and failure swept through her, and a sob wracked her body.

The unexpected hand on her knee was not unwelcome, as Cara was overwhelmed with memories and the last bits of hope and strength drained out of her, sucked dry by the desert winds.

If this was to be their end, they would see it out together, Cara supposed. She didn't even have the energy to censor her feelings of desperation and loss at the thought of perishing here in the desert, at having failed Lord Rahl. And having failed Kahlan.

The weight of Kahlan's hand on her knee lifted, and Cara felt the cool, dry skin of Kahlan's fingers beneath her chin, tipping her head upright and towards the Mother Confessor.

Cara's wet cheeks and trembling lips showed clearly her uncharacteristic turmoil. She looked directly at Kahlan, leaning into the hand on her cheek.

"You - you wanted so badly to be with him again," Cara started, "but I couldn't - I wouldn't let you go alone into the desert on a fool's errand."

Cara's voice elevated in its intensity and fervor, "And I had to stop you before you killed yourself trying to - "

"Shhh. Cara," said Kahlan, smiling weakly.

"I know," Kahlan said. "You're right. I couldn't accept the - the loss of Richard," she swallowed and pause, "and I was unwilling to believe that I couldn't redo that day if I could just reach the Nawlee people and overcome their enchantments. If I could prove that my love was true, that I could pass through their desert enchantments unharmed, and then they would have to help me..." Kahlan trailed off.

Cara's eyes fluttered closed and her hand came up to press Kahlan's against her own cheek.

Kahlan sighed. "I was so angry and determined, and - and wild. But then you came after me. And I was so furious with you for following me!" she exclaimed.

Green eyes found blue eyes.

"I'm sorry for the last eight days, Cara," said Kahlan quietly, her hand dropping to Cara's lap, still gently grasping the hand that Cara had pressed on top of hers.

"For ignoring you. For shutting you out. For wandering around in this stupid, ridiculous purgatory that -" Kahlan's voice was approaching a wail, and the tremor in her voice belied her utter and genuine regret at their situation. She paused and she allowed her tone to melt into a warmer, lower register that communicated only sincere apology and warmth. "It's my fault that you're here, and it's my fault that we'll probably never leave this desert."

Cara's eyes were shut tightly, and Kahlan squeezed the Mord'Sith's hand.

"Cara?"

The blanket shuddered around them and the grains of sand pricked at any patch of bare skin not covered by their clothing. They sat together in silence for several minutes, the reassuring texture of the other's hands a boon in an otherwise giftless wasteland.

Cara felt hot air brush her face, and it crossed her mind that the breeze was like the warm breath of the Spirits, concentrated on her face by this hot place. Perhaps she had gone her whole life without a moment of holiness or contact with the Spirits, only to be confronted with it in full force moments before her death in this bizarrely cursed and blessed valley of sand.

"I had no choice, Mother Confessor," Cara whispered finally. "I couldn't let you be alone in your grief. And if," she paused for breath, inhaling and exhaling shortly before lowering her gaze to the ground, where the sand was beginning to creep over the edge of their blanket.

"If you truly meant to either reach the Nawlee camp or die trying, then this is exactly where I want to be," she said in a low, even voice, holding tightly to the Mother Confessor's hand.

Kahlan's lip quivered, her eyes flicking toward heaven and eyebrows lifting as tears filled her eyes. The gentle pressure of Cara's hand in hers was the only anchor in this sand-swirled, topsy turvy world. And, to be honest, the only one she'd ever truly felt safe relying on since meeting the Mord'Sith last year.

Cara's subtle ways of showing affection and attention had never gone unnoticed by the Mother Confessor, and she had observed that Cara would allow Kahlan's touch where others would be rebuffed.

The constant presence and unwavering commitment of the Mord'Sith to Kahlan's safety and wellbeing had been a comfort throughout the trials and errors of Richard's career as Seeker, and although they had never spoken a word of it nor exchanged so much as a hug (except for the time they had been sealed into the crypt and genuinely believed they were on the brink of certain death), there had always been an unspoken, tender, and weighty connection between the Mord'Sith and the Mother Confessor.

Kahlan was grateful to be with strong, stubborn, even gentle, Cara, if the end was near.

Mind at ease or exhausted, for the moment, Kahlan pulled her feet tighter under her body and leaned sideways, resting her head on Cara's lap and wrapping her arms around Cara's torso.

For a few breaths, the other woman stayed still, as if caught in a trance.

Then Kahlan felt Cara lean over her curled body, tucking the blanket over their heads beneath Kahlan's feet and gently lifting and resettling it over Kahlan's form.

Kahlan's eyes drifted shut and she curled into Cara's body. She felt an arm come to rest over her shoulders, and long fingers gently stroking her temples, her hairline, smoothing the hair behind her ears.

I wish I knew if this were Heaven or Hell, Kahlan thought as her mind grew fuzzy. Whichever it is, please don't let me go on alone, Kahlan begged, an empty, silent prayer.

Both women tightened their grip on the other, as if daring the hot wind to tear them apart.

"Please -" Kahlan's lips formed the word before she fell into an exhausted sleep, arms around Cara's waist and hair entangled with the other woman's fingers.

Kahlan awoke shivering and confused in the dark, cool air caressing her skin and unfamiliar, animated voices approaching. Her stiff neck made itself known immediately, but on attempting to rise, she found that Cara had come to rest upon her. They were tangled together awkwardly, tightly, like tangled reins.

The voices were louder now, and Kahlan extricated herself from the cocoon of warmth between Cara's chest and legs, gently grasping the other woman's arms and lifting into a seated position.

A tired moan escaped Cara's lips as her head lolled forward. Kahlan chided herself. Normally, Cara would never be caught unawares or be unable to be awakened. Although Cara did not always take care of herself, she never let herself get to the point where she was unable to defend the Seeker or the Mother Confessor. And look at her now, thought Kahlan. They were lucky the dehydration and heat hadn't killed either of them yet.

Kahlan brought her fingers to Cara's lips and gently shook the woman's shoulder. Wild eyes flew open and Cara's hands came up to rip threatening hands away.

The firmness and warmth of Cara's grip was simultaneously unsettling and reassuring, and Kahlan gestured for silence, pointing outside of their makeshift tent.

The two women listened intently, hidden by their sandy blanket and the drifts of sand that had collected around them, as the voices increased in volume and then began drifting away.

Kahlan looked at Cara desperately, and an unspoken agreement was reached.

Cara ripped off the blanket and dashed toward the vanishing figures, shouting, "Wait! Stop!" in the direction of the voices slowly disappearing into the night. She halted and bent, palms resting on her thighs, not caring for a moment that her posture was less than intimidating and more than pathetic.

Silence.

Kahlan caught up with the other woman, laying a hand flat on Cara's back and staring with dread into the darkness.

This must be Hell, she thought. Why else send someone so near only to leave us behind?

Cara fell to her knees onto the sand, a pale gray ocean under the moonlight. Kahlan knelt behind her and held the other woman tightly from behind, twining her fingers with Cara's and pressing into her, sealing them together against the cold.

Two pairs of eyes drooped shut, and every last drop of energy between them evaporated.

When the figures approached again, to Kahlan and Cara their voices sounded muted, faraway, as if in a dream. The words they uttered sounded so familiar, yet were unintelligible.

The people tried to lift the women off the ground and onto a shifting, warm surface - a horse? The thought surfaced in Cara's mind that perhaps she should fight back, should protect Kahlan - but her muscles ached and sleep beckoned. She felt Kahlan's form being pulled away from her, and it was all she could do to clench Kahlan's hand tightly.

The bumpy warmth beneath her disappeared and she felt her body falling, coming to rest on what felt like the ground again. But everything was moving strangely, and her eyes couldn't focus. She was momentarily surprised to feel her companion's hand still firmly intertwined with her own.

The ground shifted beneath her and her last memory before falling asleep was a deep, dark purple sky freckled with stars and a distant, pale face beside her, sprinkled with darker freckles.


	2. Chapter 2

The heat was unbearable, and the dryness of her throat and the ache in her temples forced Kahlan's mind from the cobwebs of her restless sleep.

Low, flickering light, the color of a late sunset, bounced and echoed around the tent.

_Tent?_ Kahlan started awake and sat up anxiously. She was nestled in a pile of intricately woven blankets, facing the embers of a fire.

_Was this a dream? _

She shivered in spite of the warmth, tiredly drawing herself into a ball and peering around the small space.

A whimper from behind her startled the Mother Confessor into a small yelp. Kahlan whipped around, ready to defend herself, but softened with relief and, if she was being honest, something stronger, as her eyes fell upon the sweaty, mussed form of her companion.

Cara was tucked into the blankets beside Kahlan. The Mord'Sith's hair was unruly and damp, and clung to her forehead and stuck up in odd places. Kahlan smirked, and reached over to gently unstick the blond hairs from Cara's face and reassure herself that her friend was truly there, that this was real, and not some trick or mirage from the desert or its enchantments.

_Oh, Mord'Sith_, thought Kahlan, _you don't frighten me. Not anymore._

Cara moaned feverishly and, still unconscious, pulled desperately at the neckline of her leathers as if there were an invisible, increasingly tight noose around her throat.

The Mother Confessor stroked Cara's forehead once more, endearingly, and forced her tired fingers to release the top clasps of the Mord'Sith's clothing, Cara's hands yanking unseeing at her leathers as Kahlan calmly pushed her hands away and freed the top few toggles.

Under the glow of the firelight, Kahlan observed the gentle thrum and jump of a pulse on the newly revealed skin at Cara's throat. _Was this what enchantment felt like?_ She reached helplessly toward the beating vein, warm pale fingers meeting hot, damp skin. Kahlan pressed her palm gently into the skin, caressing the smooth warmth and allowing the regular beat to soothe her dizzy mind.

Kahlan found she was no longer concerned about Heaven, or Hell, or anything in between. Because here it was quiet.

Her eyes moved to Cara's face. _And here was Cara. _

The log on the fire crackled, and Cara's eyes opened.

They stared at one another for a long moment, Kahlan's hand still resting flat on the hollow of Cara's neck.

Kahlan was convinced she had never been looked at, or seen, as deeply as Cara had saw her in that moment. Full of surprise, wonder, and gratitude.

Suddenly, a thwapping noise and the deep, loud, gravelly voice of a man; the two women leapt apart as the tent flap slapped closed and a tall, dark man appeared and spoke to them across the fire.

"_Ma bhiktilat thalik sapphoristes fil janoob kaman_," he intoned, looking curiously at the two of them, his eyes glancing off the undone toggles of Cara's top.

Kahlan edged in front of Cara on the ground.

"Are you...Nawlee?" Kahlan asked.

"_Nawlee_?" the man said, eyebrows raised. He shook his head, more to himself than to the women, and responded in heavily accented English, with long, round vowels and l's and d's that emanating from his throat.

"Only those west of our lands call us by that name. How did you and your partner," he lifted his chin toward Cara, "come to be in this place?"

Cara, who had been watching from behind Kahlan, green eyes glittering with increasing awareness, rocked back comfortably on her heels and spoke up.

"My 'partner' and I were looking for you," she said, a hint of her usual cockiness coloring her tone.

"And yes, there _are_ sapphoristes among the janoobs as well," Cara added, smirking impishly and brushing an imaginary speck of dust from Kahlan's shoulder.

Cara fixed the man with a smoldering look, and the stranger chuckled in return.

"I...kayf behki...I..admire your spirit, janoobi," he spoke warmly.

Kahlan's growing sense of disconcertion now overwhelmed her. _Was she hallucinating? _She turned desperately to Cara.

"Do you know this man?" she asked her companion urgently.

Cara turned her easy smile away from the stranger and gave her attention to Kahlan.

"Mother Confessor, we have indeed reached the Nawlee people," she spoke evenly, as if to impress upon the stranger the high and powerful station which Kahlan held.

Answering the question in Kahlan's eyes before it was asked, Cara said quietly, "My Sisters and I learned many languages during our training, and the Nawlee language is closely related to the Cibara I choose to learn."

She lowered her voice another notch and spared a glance for the stranger, who was watching the fire with hands on his hips.

"We can trust them for the time being."

Kahlan nodded, still confused but willing to trust her companion, who was clearly more in the know than she.

"Water and a camel are the desert-traveler's dearest friends," the stranger spoke, "yet you have neither. Let me make offering," the stranger spoke.

"Sevri!" he called over his shoulder.

"Please, take," he said, stepping aside as a small girl, perhaps 10 or 11 years old, skittered into the tent bearing a heavy tray laden with goods. She hesitated visibly several feet away from the two women, and the man shouted, "Ya'khod, Sevri!"

Sevri stumbled forward and gently laid the platter beside the pile of blankets.

Ever in possession of her manners no matter the circumstances, Kahlan looked gently at the girl, smiled, and said, "Thank you, Sevri."

A ghost of a smile crossed Sevri's face, and she straightened and rejoined her father, who was squatting by the fire and piling on several new logs.

"It is late," he spoke.

"You are safe here tonight. I have ordered my people to leave you unharmed. And in return, I ask that you do not wander alone through our camp." He fixed them with a look, as if expecting them to argue.

Cara tilted her head, raised an eyebrow and nodded effortlessly. Kahlan eyed the water skin and foods on the platter.

"I will return in the morning, then," he said.

_Thwap_ - the tent flap closed behind him and they were alone again.

Kahlan reached for a cucumber, only to find her wrist caught tightly in Cara's grip.

"Don't," Cara ordered.

"In Nawlee tradition, once you partake of hospitality, you are blood-bound to repay your debt. And since ours was literally a life-or-death situation, and our weapons are missing - "

Kahlan gasped, reached for her blade and blinked when she realized Cara was right.

" - I would prefer we owe them as little as possible. At least until we get a look around their camp tomorrow."

Kahlan's shoulders slumped in defeat, and the Mord'Sith eyed her.

"Water, however, is a debt we can repay," Cara spoke.

"The Nawlee say that only a devil's servant would withhold water from a traveler in need," she explained, handing the plump skin to Kahlan, who uncorked it greedily and immediately brought it to her lips, sucking intensely at the rim of the container and releasing it with a wet thwip.

Cara watched her, equal parts amused and uncomfortably aroused.

Kahlan tilted her head back, licked her lips, and exhaled a content moan.

Cara approached her companion soundlessly.

"Pain here, yes?" came Cara's voice from close behind Kahlan, as strong fingers rubbed at the knots and aches in the Mother Confessor's neck and the Mord'Sith's legs enclosed her.

"Mmm..." was all the typically wordy Mother Confessor could summon in response.

Kahlan felt herself drifting into sleep under Cara's touch, and she stirred her mind into awakeness once more.

"While that does feel...amazing, surely you must...mmm...have pains that I can ease," Kahlan managed.

Cara said nothing and continued stroking and kneading the heated skin of Kahlan's neck.

The intense heat from the fire and the warmth radiating from the body behind her mingled with the utter relief Kahlan felt as her pain drained away and sleep beckoned.

"Rest, Kahlan," said Cara, and brushed dark locks off her friend's neck and continued her gentle ministrations.

Outside, the stars rotated in the sky, chased by a sun still invisible. Inside, Kahlan breathed deeply under the watchful, intense eyes of Cara, still nestled between Cara's strong legs.

Head nodding forward on the edge of sleep, Kahlan reached behind her to still Cara's hands.

"Thank you."

Cara's hands slid down and off Kahlan's back, resting in the small space between them.

"I am so glad that you're here with me," Kahlan offered quietly, her back still inches away from Cara's chest.

Kahlan breathed, thoughts of Richard appearing and disappearing in her mind. She exhaled.

"I - I should be afraid," said Kahlan. "But you - all I feel is safe. Cared for. Protected," she continued.

She knew Cara was listening by the even, warm puffs of breath on her shoulders, and the stillness with which her companion held herself.

"I - me, too," came the Mord'Sith's quiet admission.

Without being face-to-face, without the eye contact and touches that would mean too much too soon, each woman felt a deep closeness and security, similar to buckling and pulling tight the final strap on a favorite horse's saddle, in anticipation of a ride at once wild and familiar.

Kahlan reached behind her with both arms, finding Cara's hands and pulling them around her body.

In a comforting mirror of their previous embrace of despair in the darkness, when the Mother Confessor had cradled Cara from behind, Kahlan now sat in front of Cara, and pulled long arms around her own waist, heart jumping as Cara tightened her arms and legs around Kahlan wordlessly in response.

They sat pressed together for the second time, resting in the quiet knowledge that in each other they had a sure partner and ally, no matter what tomorrow would bring.


	3. Chapter 3

Dawn came early, the light seeping under the edges of the tent and prodding Kahlan into awareness.

But this time, she awoke alone.

The Mother Confessor stretched contentedly and surveyed the interior of their tent.

_Where was Cara?_

Kahlan shook herself. _No need to panic, Kahlan. She's probably just out for a walk._

She chided herself. _You may be a Confessor, but__ one evening of cuddling shouldn't make you so needy. _

Straightening her dress, she took another deep sip of water and approached the door flap of their tent. Kahlan paused, preparing herself to act the part of humble guest and dignified Confessor. A deep breath, and Kahlan pushed through the flap and stepped outside.

The morning air was still cool, and though her throat was still raw, the water and the good night's sleep had bolstered her spirits immensely. She set out walking, intent on finding her companion and exploring their camp.

Surrounding her tent were many other tents, just like the one she and Cara had shared. Each one had a different design, as well as a weapons rack rammed into the ground beside each entrance. Kahlan wondered briefly where they had found the wood in this barren desert.

_Where is everyone? _Kahlan thought, the silence of the camp suddenly reaching her like a burst of cold air. _Perhaps the Nawlee have different sleep requirements?_

Kahlan felt for her weapon, a casual habit meant to reassure herself and frighten her enemies. She had forgotten that their weapons had been seized.

Kahlan was beginning to feel very uneasy, and her mind had begun to work through the situation.

In reality, they hadn't found salvation with these people at all. Kahlan was weaponless, uninformed as to their location, and completely reliant on their hosts for food, water and transportation. She had no bargaining chips. She didn't even know if the Nawlee had any understanding of what Confessors were capable of.

Kahlan also didn't know what the Nawlee were capable of.


	4. Chapter 4

The ropes were heavy and the gag was gritty. Her blindfold made it impossible to learn much about her environment, but Cara smelled sulphur and the air was damp and warm on her skin.

_Stupid, stupid,_ Cara thought. _How could I let myself be taken like that? _

Kahlan's voice came unbidden in the Mord'Sith's mind. _You were exhausted, undernourished and dehydrated, and thought you could trust these people._

_No_, Cara thought. _I_ wanted _to trust these people, I wanted us to be safe._

She gritted her teeth and called on her Mord'Sith training.

Cara had been bound, but not tethered, and so was able to hop slowly around her cell, listening, touching, and observing. Seeking anything that might indicate a door, so she could at least get the jump on whoever came to get her.

She recited and recommitted herself to the rules she had broken:

_1. Never trust anyone, ever._

_2. You are never too tired to keep watch._

_3. A Mord'Sith is never a victim._

_4. Protect Kahlan. _

After their intimate embrace last night, Cara had grown uncomfortable and turned back to her own blankets, away from the Mother Confessor. Kahlan had been confused, and had reached for her, only for the Mord'Sith to twitch violently at her touch.

Cara had hardly trusted her own voice at the moment, but she knew she had to say something, otherwise the Mother Confessor would stay up all night watching her back and worrying.

"Rest, Mother Confessor," Cara spoke in a low, wavering tone, the words barely meeting Kahlan's ears.

A pause. Her heart beating as she felt Kahlan's eyes traveling across her form. The heat from the fire and the heavy blankets making her feel uncomfortable and slightly nauseous.

"Please," Cara managed, her body taut, still turned away from Kahlan. Did Kahlan not understand that this couldn't happen? _I can't let you down this way, Kahlan. Please understand._

And then Kahlan's gentle response: "As you wish," and she had turned into her own blankets and settled down into sleep.

Despite her sheer exhaustion, Cara lay awake until she was certain the Mother Confessor had fallen asleep. Cara let out a breath. _You won't be able to protect her if you care about her. Look at your sister. Anyone you ever cared about. _

Cara glanced at Kahlan for a long moment, asleep and tucked into her blankets, long dark hair tumbling towards Cara.

"Cara, please go to sleep," Kahlan murmured.

Cara tensed, needlessly fearful her thoughts had somehow become audible. _Ridiculous, Cara, don't be ridiculous. You must really need sleep if your brain is this dysfunctional._

"Please," Kahlan offered, the word clumsy in her drowsy mouth and tired brain.

Permission given, or rather, commanded, Cara had allowed herself to fall into unconsciousness. Remembering it now, the sulphuric smell filling her nostrils and the bindings cutting off the circulation in her wrists, Cara felt the anger bubbling in her chest.

Cara had fallen asleep embarassingly easily, and fallen immediately into a dream. That night, her body had felt light, not leaden, and she had floated just above the ground, a shimmering blue-silver pool, surrounded by tiny, dark green vines, inches from her nose. Her dream self had been transfixed, joyfully enthralled and completely unable to look away.

Dream-Cara had gazed deeply into the pool, and in response a droplet of the silvery substance had slowly risen up, against gravity, to meet her, gently pressing its coolness onto the bridge of her nose and wrapping itself down by her jaw and below each of her ears, and coming together at the base of her skull. It had felt heavenly, and Dream-Cara's eyes had closed, mind blissfully clear of all thought.

A tickle by her ankles and her wrists nearly made Dream-Cara laugh, and her feet twitched to avoid the sensation.

Suddenly, darkness. Dream-Cara's eyes flew open, but in the dream there was no light, only sensation. The cool substance circling Dream-Cara's head solidified, and the pressure was unbearable. The tickle by her feet and wrists had been replaced by a painful burn, as the vines by the pool had blossomed into dark, hungry monsters, and wound themselves tightly around her feet and her wrists, making it impossible for Dream-Cara to struggle.

Dream-Cara's eyes searched fiercely in the darkness for any remnant of the beautiful pool of light that she knew had been just inches from her face only moments before. She flailed her limbs but the vines held her fast and unmoving. Dream-Cara's air was getting warmer and heavier and it was getting harder and harder to breathe through the pain, until...

_SPLAT_. Cara had been dropped face first, still bound as she had been in her dream, not into the beautiful pool of her dreams, but onto the hard rock floor of a cell. Looking wildly under the cloth of her blindfold and struggling into wakefulness, her dizzy eyes had caught a glimpse of a deep red robe billowing out of sight before the door (_was it above her_?) and the candlelight had disappeared.

When she overcame the vertigo several candlemarks later and managed to sit up against a wall, fury was the first emotion she felt.

_How could you be so stupid, Cara?! _

The Nawlee were masters of the dreamworld, and could manipulate anyone's sleeping thoughts, bending someone's dreams and nightmares to their will. Awake, Mord'Sith were able to resist magic, but asleep, they were powerless to resist the dreamworkers of the Nawlee.

_But what do they want from me? From Kahlan? If they harmed _one_ hair on her head..._

The Mord'Sith growled, and clenched her fists to keep up the bloodflow.

A clattering on the floor in front of her, and a deep voice from above:

"A knife for you, Mord'Sith. Come, it is time to play your part."


End file.
